Without a Clue
by ColdFusion180
Summary: Being a hard-boiled detective isn't easy, especially around the Acolyte base.


**Without a Clue**

New York's a wondrous city. Subways, Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, Broadway, Lady Liberty, the Yankees...boy, I wish I lived there. If wishes were nickels I'd be off to Hawaii with a dame on each arm and a first class seat. Instead I'm stuck in a third class town on a fourth class trip to nowhere with no legroom and a used barf bag.

My feet dozed on top my desk, keeping company the inch or so of dust that covered it like a Christmas cookie. The trashcan was doing a fair impersonation of a volcano that just spewed out the entire circulation of the Wall Street Journal on Sunday. The air was so still a flea could cough and be arrested for disturbing the peace.

Me? The name's Creed. Victor Creed. My enemies call me Sabertooth. My friends call me Vic. That is if I had any friends. I'm a private eye.

It's a tough line of work, but I'm a tough guy. It takes a burning house dropped off a skyscraper to bring me down, and even then you have to throw in the kitchen sink. Some of my adversaries can testify to that. Especially those who have permanent positions growing flowers and belong to the gardening group for the pulse-impaired.

It was a slow day. The minutes ticked by like a senatorial filibuster. The remains of my last case lay on the floor next to my chair. I was wondering whether getting more beer was worth the effort when my door swung open and trouble walked in. Like I'd expect anything less.

"Victor! The east wall of my private office just blew up! A file cabinet flew across the room and almost took my head off! Everything's a mess and...why are you wearing a fedora?" Magneto gave Sabertooth a strange look. "Never mind. Just find out what caused it and be quick about it."

The man was obviously upset. I'd be too if I'd just missed an appointment for a cranium amputation. The look in his eye and the way he was ranting gave me serious reservations about taking him on as my client. But the fact he had a case cancelled the reservations with little fuss and less argument.

I told the man it'd cost him fifty greenbacks a day, plus expenses, with another hundred when I completed the job.

"You're gonna have a black and blue back if you don't shut up and get moving," Magneto growled dangerously.

I decided to iron out the details later and get started before he tried something we'd both regret. I grabbed my coat and a last shot of fortification that remained from my previous case. Reassuring the man I'd get right to work, I escorted him out the door and left the office.

As we went our separate ways questions ran through my head like Quicksilver. What was Magneto doing working at this hour? Who would want to kill him? And why? Maybe he just offended someone by wearing that bucket on his head one day too many. Stranger things have happened in this joint. Like the Jumping Pesto Incident. Now **that** was nuts.

The fact that the murder attempt utilized explosives caused me to first seek out the Cajun. Remy "Gambit" Lebeau was a prestigious, well known thief who could swipe a Van Gogh painting as easily as he could blow it up. If something was stolen chances are he stole it to cover up the fact he'd already stolen something else. There were rumors he had previous connections to a professional group of assassins, but nothing solid. He had the means to knock off Magneto, but the motive? That's what I needed to find out.

I found the Cajun at the local watering hole. He was straddling a stool and nursing a glass of something green. Pulling up my collar, I pulled out a seat and sat down next to him.

"Hey, Sabes. Whoa, what's with the slouch hat?" Remy asked with a raised eyebrow. "And why are you wearing a new trench coat with a belt?"

"Stow the small talk Cajun. That's not what I'm here for." I rapped my knuckles on the counter. "Barkeep! Gimme a scotch."

"Uh, Sabes. We're in the kitchen. There's no bartender here."

"Well there should be," I reached over and grabbed his glass.

"Hey!" Remy yelped as Sabertooth downed the drink.

"Yuck!" I spat as the horrible, fowl tasting liquid made its way down my throat. "What was that?"

"Ginger ale. Now what's the big idea? You looking for a fight Furball?" Remy snapped.

"I'll ask the questions here," I growled. "Where were you one hour ago?"

"What?"

"Answer the question!"

"I was in the rec room watching TV. After a while Piotr wanted to draw in there so I came in here."

"I see. What do you know about the explosion that happened today?"

"Which one?"

"The one that took out a wall."

"Like I said, which one?"

"The one next to Magneto's private office."

"Look you're gonna have to be more specific than that."

"The one that happened less than an hour ago and took out a wall of Magneto's private office!"

"Again?" Remy smirked. "Man, I bet Mags is pretty steamed about that. Was it the east wall?"

"Aha! So you admit you knew which wall was blown up!"

"I did not!" Remy snapped. "I just have ten bucks in the pool for the east wall being the next one in there to be taken out!"

"Don't give me that! You set the wall to blow didn't ya?"

"What?!"

"Don't bother to deny it! We both know you can charge an object and set it to explode later. You saw a chance to take Magneto out and you took it!"

"I don't know what's going on but I'm not putting up with this anymore!" Remy shouted and got up to leave.

"You're not going anywhere!" I clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "Not until I've closed the case!"

"You **are** a case!" Remy threw off Sabertooth's grip.

"Stay here Cajun!" I warned him and kicked back my stool.

"Make me Furball!" Remy shot back and took out his cards.

After that things started to get a little philosophical. We began a lively debate with claws and charged cards making profound arguments on our behalf. The Cajun tried to blindside me with some dazzling displays of rhetoric but discovered my dialectic talents left him stumped and speechless. I may not be the most eloquent of speakers but I make up in volume and language for what I lack in refinement.

I ended up leaving the watering hole after playing a little chin music that left the Cajun seeking answers from the stars. Putting my jaw back together I reviewed what little had been gleamed from the encounter. The Cajun had a week motive and little alibi to back him up. Could be that someone got to him and shut him up first, but my nose told me otherwise. He lacked the smell of fear associated with someone who's hiding something and afraid of being found out. Though what he did smell like made me wonder exactly what he'd been eating lately.

An air of contemplation hung about me like a low-lying fog bank as I continued to compose a list of possible suspects. A guy like Magneto doesn't get to where his is without putting a few noses out of joint. The man makes enemies as easily as he makes magnets. Maybe old man Xavier finally decided to send one of his lackeys to put him down for good. Or a neglected family member got fed up and tried to cash in on any inheritance.

Neither possibility seemed likely. No one could enter the neighborhood without setting off the alarms. And while Magneto's daughter was more than willing to bump him off, his son and most of Xavier's goons were too spineless to attempt the job.

Shaking off my stray thoughts I noticed I was just outside the domicile of the Firebug, a.k.a Pyro. If the Firebug is evidence of being made in the likeness of some higher power we're all doomed. He had a mind several acorns more than a bushel and a grasp of sanity shakier than the San Andreas Fault. With a love of flames and a knack for chaos, I decided he was worth looking into.

I rapped out a quick sonnet on the door but didn't get an applause. My nose and ears confirmed the Firebug was on the other side so I dropped the decorum and let myself in. I found him sitting on the floor staring at a half eaten sucker with a mound of the sickeningly sweet things next to him.

"Alright, Firebug. What do you..."

"Shhh!" Pyro hissed angrily without breaking eye contact with the lollipop in his hand. "I can do it. I can do it. I can do...aaarrrggghhh!" he screamed and bit into the lollipop with a large crunch. "No! Not again! One more try! Just one more try!"

"Huh?" I blinked as he finished off the candy. "What are you doing?"

"Oh hey Sabes. I'm trying to find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of one of these things," Pyro said cheerfully. "I keep biting into them but next time I'll find out once and for all!"

"Okay," I blinked as he tossed the empty sucker stick onto a pile that was almost as big as he was. "How many of those things have you had?"

"Oh, I dunno. Only five or six hundred," Pyro smiled as he unwrapped another lollipop. "Wanna look and guess what color my tongue is?"

"No," I started to feel very nervous and tried to stick to business. "Where were you one hour ago?"

"I don't know."

"Aha. So you don't have an alibi do ya?"

"Sure I do. Sometimes I sing them before I go to sleep."

"Not that, stupid!"

"Well how stupid do you want it?"

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"No, but you must be."

"Grrr...what do you know about the explosion that happened today?"

"Which one?"

"No, I'm not going through this again!"

"Well maybe you should go through a car wash more often and...aaaccckkk!" Pyro choked as Sabertooth grabbed him by the throat.

"I've had enough of this from you Firebug!" I snarled and threw him into a chair. "I've seen through your little act. You're not as dumb as you look!"

"Yes I am!"

"Well, okay, but that's not the point! You're hiding something aren't ya?"

"What? No I'm not!" Pyro yelped.

"Yes you are!" I shouted trying to break through his sugar-deluded mind. What there was of it. "I can smell it on ya! Don't try and deny it!" I killed the lights, turned on a nearby desk lamp and shone it in his face. "You know what I'm talking about. You are guilty! Guilty you hear me!"

"Okay! Okay! I admit it!" Pyro cried and covered his head with his arms. "Stop! I can't it any longer! I'll confess! I'll confess everything! Everything!"

"That's better," I grinned triumphantly and leaned against a desk. "Okay, Firebug. Spill it."

"Okay," Pyro whimpered. "I admit it. I used an egg timer without a license. I impersonated a microscope. I dressed up my neighbor's dog in plaid clothes with purple buttons on a Sunday."

"Huh?" I blinked and stared at him in shock.

"I made origami figures out of season," Pyro continued listing off his offenses. "I planted turkeys instead of trees on Arbor Day. I did the Sydney Quickstep in Melbourne, walked sideways down the right side of a footpath and put pastrami with mustard on a BLT!"

The next half hour was the longest of my life as the Firebug rattled off offenses like a New York stock ticker. I tried to cut the tape short but it's supply of paper was more endless than sand in the Sahara. Finally I just put the Firebug down for a nap right in the middle of his sucker stick pile with my fist playing a quick lullaby on his left temple.

Leaving the room I found the case had gone colder than a penguin's nose on an iceberg. I hadn't turned up a single clue and had lost a fair amount of blood, not to mention brain cells. While both of those were recoverable, the scars one of them left would be around for years to come.

I had one more suspect on my list. The Russian, also know as Colossus. He kept his nose clean most of the time, but was thought to harbor a hatred of Magneto deeper than the Marianas Trench. He was the last person I'd expect to try and kill Magneto, which made him the most likely one to have done the deed.

Turning the corner I found myself in the very hallway where the explosion occurred. The missing wall gave a near panoramic view of Magneto's office. Standing in the middle of the hallway holding a box filled with debris was none other than the Russian.

"So, you've returned to the scene of your crime, eh Russian?" I growled.

"Huh?" Piotr blinked, confused. "Magneto just told me to clean up this mess while he tried to find more aspirin."

"And you just jumped at the chance to cover up your tracks," I leaned against the single non-absent wall while fixing him with a glare.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Piotr said.

"Then let me give it to you straight. You hated Magneto. Resented him. Loathed him. Forced to act as a lackey for a cause you didn't give a hoot. He finally pushed you too far and drove you to desperation. So you decided to act. Blow him up and you'd be free of him for good. No one would ever suspect you. With all the other explosions going on around here who would know the difference? Especially if you planned to pin the rap on someone else who could blow things up just by touching 'em."

"I...I would never do something like that!" Piotr protested.

"Don't give me that garbage!" I began to stalk towards him menacingly. "You've been planning this for months. Acting the meek, quiet guy to throw off suspicion. Meanwhile you've been getting close to the Cajun and playing him for a sap. Raiding some choice possessions while covering up your tracks. Studying his powers so when the time came you'd be able to plant evidence that pointed right to him! And even if that failed you had a backup plan to set up the Firebug to take the fall as well! Either way one of them gets nailed while you walk away scott free. ISN'T THAT RIGHT?!"

"It's true!" Piotr cried suddenly, dropping the box and slowly slid down to the floor. "It's true! I can not take it any more! I admit it!"

"I knew it! It's always the quiet ones," I sneered at him in contempt. "So you admit to the attempted murder of Magneto by blowing up his wall?"

"Huh? No, of course not," Piotr shook his head while sitting against the wall. "I just accidentally ate all the lemon-ginger sorbetto Remy has been saving. I do not want to tell him until I find a way to replace it all."

"What?" I was stunned. My last hope had gone and kicked the bucket. With no clues and no more suspects the case looked emptier than a press agent's heart.

"There he is!" Remy appeared in the hallway supporting a dazed Pyro covered head to toe in lollipop sticks. "What's with you Furball? You harassing Piotr now?"

"Shut up Cajun. I need to think," I growled at him.

"Well that should occupy you for the next month or so," Remy snorted.

"It is alright," Piotr tried to assume him. "I think he is just really focused about finding out why this wall blew up."

"Well he doesn't have to be such a bloody jerk about it," Pyro moaned rubbed his sore head. "Oooh, look at the pretty birdies."

"Yeah, and why he's wearing that weird getup?" Remy grumbled. "He never dresses up unless...oh no! Sabes have you been playing with valerian again?"

"Who else could get in here undetected and want Magneto dead?" I muttered to myself ignoring everything else. "Maybe SHIELD or Mystique or the stuffed animal loving ninjas or..."

"He has," Remy groaned. "Okay, you know the drill. This time let's use Restraint Plan 12."

"Plan 12? Are you sure?" Piotr asked.

"Oh yeah," Pyro managed to crack a grin. "It's payback time!"

"You said it," Remy smirked slipping some cards into his palm. "Time for round two!"

"Aha! That's it! The pieces have all fallen into place. I know who blew up the wall. It was...what are you doing?" I blinked as my three former suspects slowly made their way towards me. "Why are you looking at me like that? And where did you get that net...AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

CRASH!

"GET HIM!"

"TAKE THIS FURBALL! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"HURRY! LET'S GO LOCK HIM IN HIS ROOM!

WHAM!

"GET OFF ME YOU LUNATICS! AAARRRGGGHHH!"

Once again things broke down into a highly philosophical debate. The resulting discussion went on for hours but eventually came to an end. The final item of business was to reveal the identity of the culprit to my client and close the case. Which I'd have been glad to do had he agreed to my fees and remained conscious after having the misfortune to stumble on the aforementioned debate. All and all, it turned out be a fairly quiet day.

**

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Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution.**


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